


call me friend, but keep me closer

by orphan_account



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner RPF, The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, admitting feelings, the slighest bit of angst, the teensiest bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 22:16:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17837138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Min [20:25] -- hey punk, we’re out of milk. pls get some on the way home.The next text comes in two seconds later.Min [20:25] -- also some froyo. tom boy is distraught and won’t tell me whyor; the one where Thomas is upset, Newt comforts him through it, and some wonderful things ensue.





	call me friend, but keep me closer

**Author's Note:**

> hi, this was written in a few hours and is not edited in the slightest so there's probably lots of mistakes in here and I'M SORRY

The wind is chilly against Newt’s skin, its porcelain color shining against the vast darkness spread over campus. His idiotic self forwent a coat in a rush to class earlier this afternoon and while it seemed like an okay decision at the time, bundled up in his favorite green cashmere jumper, he’s regretting it tenfold as he toggles open his weather app and it reads a crisp **2°C**.

Goosebumps litter his skin, up and down the expanse of his sheltered arms, up the nape of his neck to the base of his hairline. Even his calves feel the brunt of the cold, layered in warm, wool socks and the thickest pair of jeans he owns. His bad leg is taking the brunt of it, however, pains flaring throughout it, it feeling as if he’s been stabbed repeatedly. He grits his teeth together and powers through, knowing it’s futile to stop now that he’s so close.

A text blares through his phone, Newt stumbling to bring it out of his back pocket with cold hands. He swipes it open and notices a text from Minho, eyebrows curving together as he reads it.

 **Min [20:25] --** hey punk, we’re out of milk. pls get some on the way home.

The next text comes in two seconds later.

 **Min [20:25]** \-- also some froyo. tom boy is distraught and won’t tell me why

Minho’s words have Newt’s brain racking for whatever reason Thomas is upset. _Did he get into another argument with his mom? Did a girl reject him? Was a test grade bothering him? Was it school? Why won’t he tell Minho?_ So many thoughts raced through Newt’s head.

It isn’t along walk to the convenient store down the street from his flat, so he does just that, hasty now that his best friend is upset. He’s quick in the store, grabbing the milk, froyo, and a pack of cigs — yes, he told his mum recently that he was quitting, but it’s harder than she thinks. The toxin is the only thing that calms his fretful personality at times, soothes away the worries with a its harsh bite.

A brief hello to Gally, one of his old resident hall buddies from when they all dormed at uni, and he’s back out into the cold, teeth chattering and shivers crawling along his body, specifically his leg.

The walk back to the flat he shares with Minho and Thomas takes longer than he’d like, but soon he’s stumbling through the front door of their apartment complex, sighing in relief as the blasted steam hit warms his body.

Thankfully, the elevator hasn’t been messing with him lately, in use and ready for take-off, so he’s at his flat door quicker than he’d particularly like, Minho opening the door for him as he’s limping down the hall.

“Hey, buddy,” Minho greets him, steering him into the room and stealing the bag from his hand. He drops it on the counter, next to where there’s a few bottles of liquor lined up. The flat smells like booze, and he knows Minho’s been pre-gaming for the party he’s going to with Brenda and Teresa, the ladies surprisingly not at their flat helping him do so. “Thanks. You have it from here, right? Tom boy said it’s alright if I go to the party and I really want to make a move on Brenda tonight—”

Newt rolls his eyes, shifting from his bad leg to the other. “Shut your mouth, slinthead. Go on, now! Before I change my mind!” He ushers Minho over to the door, the other grinning at him like a mad man, and he receives a sloppy kiss on the corner of his mouth, Minho clearly aiming for his cheek and missing. “Don’t drink too much more! I’m not babysitting when you get back!”

With that, Minho’s gone, door sealed shut and locked behind him, and Newt knows that if Minho drinks too much he _will_ be babysitting. He relinquishes the thought with a sigh, eyeing the bottle of booze on the counter, but his doctor’s words about mixing alcohol with his meds pushes it out of his mind.

Once the milk is put away and he hides his pack of cigs in his room, he takes the froyo container and two spoons, knocks on Thomas’ door, and says, “Tommy, you in there?”

Newt hears a groan from the other side of the door, taking it as a confirmation to move into the room, and he frowns when he notices the lump on the bed. “Oi, mate, sit up,” he spouts, but gently, as he kicks the door shut.

Thomas’ room is dark, the only light illuminated from the moon and a street lamp that’s settled conveniently next to Thomas’ window, He even has his star lights off, which Newt has never seen before, since he bought them for Thomas years ago as a birthday gift, costing an arm and leg for the detailed buggers.

Newt makes a decision then to turn them on, so he can see a little more, the stars brightening the room just enough to easily make out faces and recognize tiny details. Some might even call it mood lighting.

The lump on the bed doesn’t move, so Newt steps over the the sparse clothing littering the floor, and nudges at Thomas’ covered form until the boy rolls over, noticeable tear streaks on his face. Thomas’ eyes light up when he sees the froyo in Newt’s hand, and he forces himself up into a sitting position, allowing for Newt to crawl onto the bed next to him and slide under the covers.

Immediately, Thomas’ hands dive for the froyo and Newt retracts it so it’s not in Thomas’ reach, the other boy leaning on him to try and grab it. “Newt, c’mon, give it,” Thomas whines, half of his body leaning on Newt’s, reaching for the froyo.

Newt shakes his head, hands moving further out of Thomas’ reach, face flushing ever so slightly. “No, not until you tell me what’s wrong. Then we’ll sulk and eat all the froyo you want until we barf,” Newt vocalizes to Thomas, eyes sharper than Thomas ever remembers seeing them.

This has Thomas off of him, lips curling into a pout, hands running over his hair briefly. He’s grown his hair out recently, long enough so he can style it messily, as if he doesn’t spent twenty minutes fretting about it in the morning. His hands travel to cover his face instead, Newt managing to just hear him through them, Thomas’ words morphing together. “ _You’ll make fun’a’me. S’why I didn’t tell Min_.”

Newt’s lips curve into the tiniest of smiles, so he chews on his lip to hide it, acting somber as his free hand comes out to rest gently on  the small of Thomas’ back, rubbing small circles into it to soothe the younger boy. “Have I ever taken the piss out of something you were genuinely upset over?”

Thomas doesn’t remove his hands, but replies, “ _No_.”

“Then what makes you think I will now, Thomas?” The use of his full name has Thomas dropping his hands to look at Newt, eyes slightly wide as if he’s explaining the whole situation to Newt without saying anything. “That doesn’t help me, c’mon now.”

“Urgh,” Thomas utters, slightly embarrassed, throwing his body down onto the bed so he’s staring up at the ceiling, an arm thrown over his forehead. “Just, _fuck_ , open my laptop and read the article on it.”

So, Newt does that. He places the froyo and spoons down on the bedside table near him, has to lean all the way over Thomas to reach the laptop on the other table, purposely dropping all of his weight heavily onto Thomas to make the other boy groan. Then, once he’s settled upright, he opens the laptop up, eyes squinting as the bright light blinds him in the dark room.

Turning the brightness down slightly, Newt’s eyes run over the nearly _twenty_ tabs Thomas has open, and reads the title of the article that’s on the screen. “NASA’s Opportunity Rover Mission on Mars Comes to End — Oh my God. _Thomas_.” Newt can’t help the exasperated tone that comes out of his mouth, because, _no_ , Thomas isn’t actually upset over a fucking _robot_ , is he? There’s no way, Newt refuses to believe it.

“See. See! This is why I didn’t want to tell you! I _knew_ you’d make fun of me,” Thomas grumbles quietly, hands covering his face again, before he makes a split decision and grabs the end of the comforter, pulling it over his head.

Newt snickers to himself at Thomas actions, shaking his head, shutting the laptop and placing it on the opposite end of the bed. “Oh hop off it, you big lump. M’not makin’ fun of you. It just surprised me, is all.” When Thomas doesn’t come out from underneath the blanket, Newt slides down until he’s underneath it with him, turning on his side to face the younger boy. “Alright, so tell me. What did you read that made you upset, because I know that a NASA article wouldn’t have caused your tears.”

Thomas is still staring straight, on his back, refusing to look at Newt. “You’re not going to laugh at me?”

“No m’not, Tommy. Would never, you know that,” Newt replies, reaching his right hand out to pat blindly at Thomas’ chest, feeling the other boy’s heartbeat quicken slightly at that. _That_ surprises Newt, more than Thomas being upset over a bloody _rover_.

“Alright. I was fine with it at first, you know? It’s just a rover, never had much of an interest in it,” Thomas starts, briefly glancing over at Newt to detect any trace of humor in his eyes, continuing when he doesn’t see any, “But then, I started seeing these posts. One about how the team that worked with Oppy had a playlist of songs to try and encourage him to wake up—”

“That’s sweet,” Newt interjects, a small smile on his face, hand rubbing circles into Thomas’ chest.

Thomas smiles blindingly over at Newt, the first real smile Newt’s seen today. “Yeah, it was. And that made me a little sad to begin with, but then I saw what was the little robot’s last words and I _lost_ it, Newt. It was so depressingly dark, so _human_ , and it made me think about how that robot was all alone, on a planet lacking of life. And I _know_ he doesn’t possess any actual brain waves to make him understand emotion or feel anything, but the words got to me and made me so sad for the little guy.”

Newt feels his heart start to ache, just the tiniest, at Thomas’ words. He still thinks it’s silly to get so upset over a robot, but it’s Thomas, the guy who is a ball of empathy. So, he whispers, “What did he say?”

“My battery’s low, and it’s getting dark,” Thomas whispers, so quietly, so _sadly_ , that Newt reaches for his hand, is unable to stop himself, wanting to do anything possible to comfort the boy next to him. He slides his fingers alongside Thomas’, squeezes reassuringly, not realizing until now how close he’s gotten to the other boy.

The moles on Thomas’ cheek are so close, Newt’s lips almost brush them. They remind Newt of the stars, littered across the sky in galaxies far, far away, swirling into constellations and beautiful bursts of light that shoot across the night sky, that fill the expanse of hearts with warmth only that of the stars can.

And, yeah, Newt knows it’s not normal to act the way he is with Thomas. He’s known that since they became friends years ago, and every day since. The two of them have always been all over each other, touching, sitting on one another, hugging, light feathery touches that have always made Newt’s head spin, that _make_ his head spin and mouth go dry. He’s never said anything, _God, no_ , the idea of losing Thomas much worse than anything else. However, being here, in this moment, pressed against the younger boy he adores so much, maybe, just _maybe_ —

A single tear drops down Thomas’ cheek, and Newt reaches up, without thinking, and kisses the spot where he sees the tear, so fleetingly, then his head falls back. Thomas turns to Newt then, eyes shining so brightly that Newt nearly closes his eyes from being blinded. Thomas whispers, so quietly that Newt almost doesn’t hear him, “And, _fuck_ , you know what it made me realize?”

“Huh,” is all Newt is able to choke out, eyes momentarily dropping to their still intertwined hands, heart beating a mile a minute.

“That I need to take all the chances presented to me in life. It’s so fucking cheesy, but life is too short for me not to.” Thomas turns on his side, then, facing Newt, a smile on his face that Newt hasn’t seen before. “That I’m in love with you, you idiot, and I have been for some time. It took a depressing quote from a robot on another fucking _planet_ to make me see it, but it’s so irrevocably true, I feel like I’m drowning in it.”

“You, I. Me? You with me? _Me_?” Newt’s spluttering, he knows he is, because there’s no way this beautiful boy in front of him is _actually_ in love with him, there’s no way. He’s thought about this for so long, so many times, in so many different ways, and now that it’s happening he doesn’t know what to say. “What?”

Thomas lets out a laugh, one of those carefree ones that Newt adores. “The only reason I’m telling you is because I know that even if you don’t feel the same, you won’t go anywhere. You’ll still be here, being my best friend, and that’s why I’m taking the risk.”

“Let me get this straight,” Newt is somehow able to get out, eyes slightly wide. “You’re tellin’ me you’re buggin’ not?”

This pulls a hard snort out of Thomas, Newt’s own lips curving up into a smile as Thomas nods his head, licking his lips; Newt’s eyes follow the movements. “Yeah, I guess. Think I’m more _you_ -sexual. Or as Minho likes to put it, _Newtsexual_.”

“Minho knew?” Newt’s eyes are wide again, comically so, shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s no way he knew and didn’t tell me, that boy doesn’t know how to keep secrets—”

“When you threaten to tell Brenda that Minho’s into her, he learns to keep his secrets,” Thomas explains, wiggling his eyebrows at Newt, the two of them laughing. Once they settle down, Thomas speaks, but gently, “So, not to bring this serious again, but I’m assuming your lightheartedness about the situation means you’re not into me?”

Fuck, that’s not what Newt wants Thomas to think. He’s just terrible at speaking his feelings and he doesn’t want to say the wrong things— “Tommy,” Newt says, trying to explain.

“It’s okay, Newt,” Thomas interjects, squeezing his hand gently. “You don’t have to explain anything, I get it. I told Minho that you weren’t into me, but he just said I _had_ to tell you and that it would be better for me to get it off my chest—”

“Tommy—”

“—which, it was! Don’t get me wrong, I feel better now that you know, but it’s going to be a little weird and maybe it would be best if we didn’t touch as much as we did, just so I can get used to it and I can get over you quicker—”

“ _Thomas_ —”

“—because the last thing I want to do is ever make you feel uncomfortable. You’re my best friend first and foremost and that’s what I’m going to focus on- _mmph_!!”

Thomas is cut off by Newt’s lips pressing to his, slightly awkward because of the angle, teeth clashing ever so slightly, and it’s a bit of a mess, but so _them_ , that it’s perfect regardless. All the nerves in Newt’s body leave the second their mouths touch, and it’s not this heart wrenching moment that tears him apart, no. It’s this feeling of being complete, of being sated, of _coming home_ , and it’s the best thing Newt’s ever experienced in his twenty-one years of life.

Too soon, Thomas is pulling back, eyes wide, searching Newt’s face as he sputters out, “You. With me? You do?” 

Newt giggles out as he nods, a noise he knows he’s never made in his life and must’ve been saved for Thomas. For _his_ Tommy. “ _Yes_ , you slinthead, for _years_. God, I’ve thought about doin’ that since we were sixteen and  hidin’ in the bathroom at that one party from that girl Rachel who was obsessed with you.”

“The one who is with Aris now?” Thomas’ hand wanders down to Newt’s waist, rubbing at the exposed skin from his ridden-up shirt.

“Yeah, I still can’t believe they’re bloody dating— _focus_ , Tommy, will you?” Newt asks exasperatedly, but there’s fondness in his voice, and he can’t help himself when he leans forward to still another kiss from Thomas’ lips, a quick but sweet one, their lips sliding together easier now. He lets out a laugh when he pulls back and Thomas chases his lips for a second. “You’re such a fuckin’ dork.”

“That’s coming from the guy who’s liked me since he was _sixteen_ ,” Thomas lets out a snicker, and laughs harder when Newt smacks him on the chest, rolling on top of the older boy so he’s straddling Newt’s hips, the blanket falling down his back so they’re exposed to the outer world again. “I can’t believe you actually like me, though. I didn’t believe Minho when he said everything would turn out okay.”

Newt raises an eyebrow, his hand coming up to rest delicately on Thomas’ cheek, thumb moving up slightly to run down his nose, to his lips, and it presses gently into Thomas’ lower lip, Thomas sucking the finger into his mouth deviously, tongue kitten-licking it. Newt has to pull his hand away, eyes wide, forgoing the earlier conversation to mutter, “Oh, you’re going to be so much trouble, aren’t ya?”

“I’ve gotta make up for lost time, Newtie,” Thomas says, with a giggle, batting his eyelashes prettily, and Newt rolls his eyes, the fondest of expressions on his face, the other boy leaning down to press a bunch of kisses all over his face, eliciting laughter from Newt as he does so. “So much lost time,” he repeats, between kisses.

“Gerroff’ me, you lunatic!” Newt half-heartedly shoves at him, his arms going to wrap around Thomas’ neck, fingers lacing together at the nape of it. “So, you gon’ be my boyfriend, Tommy, or am I gon’ have to watch you flirt prettily with other girls in front of my face some more?”

It takes Thomas a few seconds to respond as he’s pretending to think hard about it, and Newt tugs his hair playfully, a smirk making its way onto his face. “I could always do the same, y’know,” Newt replies innocently, chewing devilishly on his lower lip.

Thomas kisses him hard to shut him up.

 

Much later on, after they tell all of their friends and they’ve talked a little more seriously about things, Newt and Thomas lay in bed, Newt’s arms wrapped tightly around the younger boy’s, his lips pressing against Thomas’ neck. His eyebrows furrow together when he feels Thomas begin to shake in his arms, so he worriedly whispers, “Hey, Tommy, y’alright?”

“You know what I just realized?”

“What is it, babe?” Newt’s own heart beats faster at calling the other boy this.

“When we tell people in the future what it was that finally made us confess our feelings for one another, we’ll have to tell them it was because of me crying over a fuckin’ dead robot on Mars.”

**fin**


End file.
